The Tenth Yahrzeit

Ten years ago I stood in a dreary suburban cemetary, surrounded by many, many people watching a tastefully ornate casket being lowered into the ground and covered with shovels of dirt.

It has now been a decade since I bid farewell to my mother.

Lighting my memorial candle tonight, I ouldn't help but think of the many things that have changed in the decade since she passed away.

I settled down and laid some roots again. I found someone whom I hope to share the rest of my life with. There have been some failed endeavours, and some successful ones. Our family has grown and evolved. And this year we struggled again with cancer's inopportune visits.

That, and so much more that has happened. While everyone else always focuses on my mother's strength and leadership for me it's much more subtle and simple: There is nothing I wouldn't give to have her back again, if only to let her know I have not wavered in keeping my final promise to her:

That we would all be alright without her. Vamos a estar bien.

In the Jewish calendar, today is the 30th of Tishrei. Tomorrow morning I will go, as I do every year, to synagogue searching for my mother's eternal optimism as I pay my respects and honor her memory.

It doesn't get any easier. You just rather get used to it, as the memories, sadly, grow more fleeting.

Te extraño mucho.